confusion
by on arabian seas
Summary: It starts with alcohol and ends with confusion. /Claire x Myrnin x Amelie x Sam. Probably a definite M, just so you know. Also. it's...interesting for the genres. CLAIRE MYRNIN AMELIE SAM.


**So, this fic is for Elsie [you know who you are] **

**Also, please know that this is one of the most appalling pieces of writing I've ever posted, but it's for Elsie, and it's a foursome, so...well...more threesome, but you get the idea.  
**

**Claire x Myrnin x Amelie x Sam  
**

* * *

It all begins with alcohol.

In all honesty, a _lot_ of things always begin with alcohol: murder, quite often, or teenage pregnancies, but when it involves Amelie, Sam, Myrnin and Claire, you begin to get the idea that it would never have happened without alcohol.

Alcohol that isn't _just_ alcohol; oh no, it's specially modified alcohol, provided by none other than the resident Morganville Mafia boss, Oliver, who concocted it to make Amelie let loose, and hopefully fall in love with him. That part didn't work, naturally, because the morning after the night before consists of the aforementioned Amelie waking up with a headache – as far as vampires get headaches – without a stitch of clothing on, next to an equally naked Sam, Myrnin…and is that _Claire_ on the other side of the room?

Needless to say, the scream issuing from Amelie's mouth is also part of the whole 'this shouldn't have happened' scenario that's going on…but is it plausible to believe that they all – particularly Amelie – took the events of last night _very_ seriously when they were happening?

Not very plausible…but it's true.

_The night before…_

Nothing's planned.

It hasn't been decided that Myrnin and Amelie will get together and discuss _the olden days_, and proceed to uncork the bottle of alcohol closest to them, because that's not what happens. Amelie hasn't invited Myrnin around for a discussion about anything other than the town, not since Morganville was founded, and so she's surprised to see him waiting on the threshold between his lab and her office, as night approaches.

"We haven't spoken in so long, Amelie," he says in explanation for his presence, for she can tell that he doesn't desire money for equipment, or have any explaining to do about Frank, so he feels he has to say _something_. "I remember the last time we did; it was on the banks of the Seine, in Paris, and it was just along from the site where the Eiffel Tower would later be. You were drinking iced tea and—" he would go on, but Amelie cuts him off, because she's fed up of hearing his drivelling – though she can recollect this moment perfectly, also.

"Is there a point to this rambling, Myrnin, or are you merely trying to drive me to a grave I have no desire to enter?" she sighs, and for a moment she is back to the kind, sweet girl she once was.

And then the Ice Queen takes over again, and it leaves her in desperate need of someone warm, someone able to remove the chill from the edges of her expressions, because that's the way that Amelie has been formed, always needing someone else, no matter what she tries to say.

(She's strong enough on her own, of course, but when she has someone else – or two – she'll always be the strongest.)

"Let us talk," Myrnin replies, stepping into her office and closing the door, "let us speak about our past, and our lives, and anything we desire to. You must have as much as I have built up inside of me, if not more, and it doesn't do us any good, does it?"

"I suppose you're right, as you almost always are," Amelie comments, resting her head in her hands for a brief moment. "Very well, though if you are desiring for me to inform you of things that could increase your standing in this town, you are most certainly mistaken."

It's with a look of pure honesty that Myrnin leans forwards, his hand on his immobile heart, his eyes locking into hers to show just how truly honest he's being, and says, "I promise that that is not my intention, dear, sweet Amelie. That is not my intention whatsoever."

**…**

Sometime between their recollections of their part in the French Revolution and the mention of the way that their previous escapades in love have only fruited further heartbreak, the alcohol is opened, delicately sipped by Amelie, and gulped down by Myrnin, and it's at this stage that the addling of their minds begins. It isn't obvious, naturally, but they begin to laugh and joke about things they never dared to mention to one another prior – including comparing one another's partners, and sharing heartfelt desires.

_"I always wanted to ride a pony au naturale."_

_"I have always had a crush on you, you know."_

_"I think we would be great together."_

_"I've always had a desire to try out your moves in Prague, with others who we know."_

Naturally, the last is Amelie, making reference to Myrnin's attempts to have intercourse with another three members of society at the time, and yet Myrnin doesn't quite pick up on this – consciously, at least.

All he does is suggest that they call Sam and Claire, the people they either love and want to be with forever, or they're not quite sure as to whether or not they've got a future, because he could kill her at any point. No prizes for guessing which pair is which.

"Are you _drunk_?" Sam asks in shock as he arrives, shortly followed by Claire, his arm instantly going around Amelie's shoulder. "Oh, Amelie…" he trails off as he's forced to take a sip of the drink by his darling partner, and is overcome by the additions to it near instantly.

"I love you, Sam," Amelie murmurs, and it's the sweetest thing as she reaches around to kiss him. It's a simple kiss, yet it shows everything they feel for one another, and it's almost too much for Claire and Myrnin to watch.

"Have a drink," Myrnin says to Claire, handing her his glass. She takes it reluctantly, not entirely sure if she should – though Myrnin doesn't appear _insane_, like Amelie evidently is – and hesitantly takes a sip, expecting to find a bitter taste of some alcohol so strong that it can intoxicate vampires.

However, she finds a pleasant taste, one akin to that of lemonade somehow, and it leaves Claire wanting to drink more – so she does. With a smack of her lips, she downs the last of the glass' contents, and immediately almost falls over, giggling as she does so.

"Are you…are you _alright_, Claire?" Myrnin laughs, stumbling across to help her to her feet, his arms wrapping around her tightly. "I will always protect you, I hope you know," he continues, getting rather deep given that they're both now in a stupor that was never meant for them.

Her lips press to his, and it's an electrifying feeling that passes through them that's similar to what Amelie and Sam are currently feeling, because they're as in love as the other two, though they don't quite realise it when they're conscious.

They're also the first pair to begin to remove the other's clothing, Claire starting with her shoes, at the same time as Myrnin removes his shirt _and_ her jumper in the same second. Something in the drink makes them desire this _slightly_ more than they would otherwise have done – and certainly, with much more haste – and yet there's no complaining from the other side of the room, given that they're now getting into it with as much gusto as Claire and Myrnin.

Amelie moans into Sam's mouth as he kisses her harder now, ripping her blouse off at the same time as moving her around so that her back is resting against the ornately designed desk that was once covered in mounds of papers. Now, it merely has the almost empty bottle of liquor which has caused four relatively sane people to behave like hormonal teenagers who can't take their hands off one another…

…and this bottle soon finds itself smashing into Amelie's head, as she squeals and rolls sideways from Sam's grabbing hands, spilling the contents all over her hair.

Neither Myrnin nor Claire particularly notice the wail of frustration that emulates from Amelie's mouth, merely continuing his searching of her breasts and mouth simultaneously, and her attempts to remove all their clothing in less than three minutes.

"ARE YOU LISTENING, MYRNIN?" Amelie yells, and both Claire and Myrnin break apart in shock. Neither of them are embarrassed by their shoddy state of dress – in all fairness, Amelie and Sam are in a similar state of it – and Claire goes as far as to raise an eyebrow in defiance about Amelie's interrupting of them.

"I happen to be building up to have a relationship of a sexual nature with Claire, so no, I was _not_ listening," Myrnin mutters, and both Sam and Claire find themselves laughing uncontrollably at this, for no specific reason. "But now you want me, what do you want?"

"I need you to come and help me with my hair, since Sam has never attempted to unravel it, and I don't particularly want him ripping the hair out of my head," she sniffs, motioning towards her now messy bun that's also soaking wet in alcohol. "Please, Myrnin? For old time's sake?" she continues, whining and pleading slightly when it becomes apparent that all Myrnin is about to say is that he was about to do his girl, so no thanks. (Though, naturally, in language of a less parody nature.)

"Yes, alright then," he grumbles, but follows her into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him, leaving the two laughing people out in the study.

This could be a big mistake.

Within minutes, he has managed to remove all the bobby-pins from her hair, and in the process has succeeded in unzipping her dress, at her request. "You may wait here, if you desire," Amelie says as she steps out of the dress…and reveals her naked body to Myrnin for the first time in three hundred years.

She's as beautiful as he remembers…and it's with a moan that he finds himself flinging his body in her direction knocking her into the shower and sliding the door closed behind him at the same time. It's scary, that he's kissing her and running his hands up and down her body, and even more so that she's doing it back, because just minutes ago they were both preparing to sleep with their boyfriend and girlfriend.

"Myrnin," she gasps his name as she rips the last of his clothes from his body, the water turning on as her back arches into the tap. Jets of steaming water shoot over them, covering their bodies in an equivalent to a human sweating, as her legs delicately wrap themselves around his waist and her hands lace into his hair. His head dips down to press feverish kisses to the skin between her breasts, nipping and sucking at the same time as she lifts her hips for him to enter her.

Neither of them understand what they're doing past _what_ they're doing; they're in the present moment, but the memory will fade with the alcohol, and yet every touch is tantalisingly electric, as he pumps harder and harder, flinging her backwards into the tiled wall with as much momentum as two vampires could ever manage to create, until their climaxes are reached at the same time. It's almost too perfect, the way that they end, her hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging in deep enough to draw blood, his biting of her breasts to complete the sensation – for vampires, nothing is complete without blood.

And, just as suddenly as it begun, it's all over; Amelie disentangles herself from Myrnin and turns the water off, reaching over to grab one of the fluffy, white towels before wrapping herself in it. She steps out of the cubicle and hands Myrnin one of the robes on the back of the door, a smile on her lips.

Of course.

**…**

Whilst Amelie and Myrnin are…_engaged_ in the bathroom, Claire and Sam are in the office, continuing to laugh their heads off. Neither of them are anywhere _near_ sane, and it's with a fuzzy feeling in their brain that she somehow finds herself falling into his lap and pounding his chest, continuing to laugh about something she can't even remember.

Her gaze lifts to Sam's face, and, like Amelie and Myrnin, it's a blur between them just being sat together, to his lips being on hers, twisting her back so it's the most comfortable angle for them both. The thin fabric of their remaining clothing is ripped into threads as Sam pulls Claire in closer, his hands roaming over areas that used to be private, the slenderness and softness of his fingertips sending waves of excitement through her lower abdomen, the chaste kisses he lines along her neck and chest area not particularly helping the situation.

Words aren't needed to explain what Sam wants, and Claire understands instantly as he begins to push her down his body, onto her knees, as he sits in the chair where Amelie normally sits. It's not normal for this to be happening, but what _is_ normal about this night?

Claire grips the shaft of Sam's penis and feels it getting harder even with her touch, warmth from her fingertips heating up the vampire's skin. She doesn't think about it as her lips slide over the end, moving closer towards her hands that continue to grip the top, rubbing in circles and other, more random shapes in order to try and make it more enjoyable for the man who isn't her boyfriend. As soon as she's got as much of Sam into her as is comfortable for her to continue to breathe, she begins to do what she thinks is natural: to suck and lick and squeeze as much as she can, in order for Sam to get what he wants.

He does, relatively quickly; his hands press Claire's head into his body, moaning and cursing issuing from his lips as he waits for it, waits—

And then it's done. The salty substance spurts out of the end of his penis into Claire's mouth, well, technically her throat, and it moves down before she can even begin to consider whether or not she wants to spit it out, and it's not the most pleasant of things, yet that's not particularly at the forefront of her mind…because the giggles are back again. Alcohol induced fits of pure laughter reign, as Claire removes herself from Sam's body and moves to collapse into the chair on the other side of the desk, finding herself rubbing certain parts of her body, in her desire to achieve her climax, as everyone else has.

(Though she doesn't know about Amelie and Myrnin.)

**…**

Though nobody realises it, due to their intoxicated minds, everyone is naked, and pretty much desperate for the next stage in their foursome that has yet to be recognised by the people actually taking part, and the fact that everyone is now laughing sort of helps that along.

Myrnin rushes over to Claire, opens his bathrobe and sits down on the side of the desk, lifting Claire to be sitting with her arms around his neck, legs around his waist, almost as though she's a baby, though the purpose of this is entirely corruptive for those underage. Simultaneously, Sam takes up the same position on the other side of the desk, Amelie sitting comfortably in his lap as she begins to rock backwards and forwards, grinding and twisting her hips in order to maximise the feeling that shoots through her – one thousand times better than with Myrnin, probably because she actually loves this man outside of the alcoholic/drug related stupor.

"Myrnin, I…I…" Claire moans, trying to remember how to speak as he moves in and out faster and faster, increasing to the speed that _he_ wants, rather than just her begging for him to give it harder. "_Fuck me!_" she ends up screaming, her nails trying (and failing) to dig into the vampire's skin, Myrnin's fangs drawn and poised to enter her skin, to allow her blood to drip into his mouth and fuel him on as far as he wants to go.

On the other side of the desk, Sam's hands tighten around Amelie's waist, wrenching her upwards somehow, so her feet are on either side of his legs, her head closer to the ceiling than it normally is. "Sam, what are you—_oh_!" she begins to ask what he's doing as his face moves towards her vagina, before the sensation his movements make allow her to understand _exactly_ what is going on.

**…**

Claire, being a human and unused to vampire drugs that are, you know, meant for _vampires_, falls asleep shortly after she reaches her climax, and this leaves Myrnin with no partner.

So it becomes SamAmelieMyrnin, somehow, as the drugs reach their peak in the systems of the vampires, resulting in Amelie throwing herself through three doors to land on her bed in a perfect doggy-style position. "Come on, then!" she calls, sounding the least like herself that she has all night – and she's not exactly been 'miss-I-am-the-Ice-Queen' tonight – and pats the bed beside her. Sam instantly jumps up behind her, understanding what she wants, whilst Myrnin moves to stand in front of her, not having to remove any clothing because, hey, they're all naked!

Amelie's confused and elated simultaneously as her hands slide over the end of Myrnin's shaft, drawing him closer to her, just as a gasp escapes her lips as Sam enters her from behind. Her lips immediately part to slide over Myrnin, and as she rocks backwards and forwards from Sam's momentum, she finds herself pulling Myrnin with her, her hands gripping the sides of his waist as she mimics Claire's actions with Sam earlier on in this sex-filled night.

And, just as quickly as everything began, it's all over; everyone reaches their max, and the drugs seem to overturn themselves in the systems of all four members of this orgy, removing the hormone-driven teenagers from them all, and sending them all into a sleep that seems far too staged to be real. The theory behind it is that because Oliver created it for Amelie, he thought that she would then be unconscious, so he could take pictures to prove that he had slept with her, and possibly even have a little booty call after she was unconscious, to please little Oliver.

But that's not the point now, because everything is over.

**…**

Amelie makes plans to kill herself, when she puts three and, well, herself together, what with the state of dress of them all, their destroyed clothing and the fact that she can tell she slept with more than one person last night.

Unfortunately, that's impossible by the fact that Sam wakes up, pieces everything together quicker than she did, and pulls her into his arms, whispering things that have no purpose in the recollection of what happened after they were drugged.

Myrnin, on the other hand, wakes up, understands and bolts from Amelie's place, stopping only to pick Claire up from the floor – unconscious human.

And that is the story of what happens when Claire, Sam, Myrnin and Amelie are all drugged by Oliver's concoction for Amelie.

* * *

**Um, so, if you've read this far, you'll know that this was a complete and utter parody (disturbing, most definitely) and please know that I'm so scared of this fic that I haven't read it through after writing it.**

**I'd appreciate it if you reviewed though.**


End file.
